2004-04-23
The Why of The Anger

hearing: nothing
reading: Great Expectations by Charles Dickens
wearing: jeans, winter white sweater, sage green shirt

Well first off, I think I owe an explanation of my anger yesterday. I was in such an extreme state of seething rage that I simply couldn't get a word out about my irascibility. To think on it long enough to relate, would only have made me angrier.

The morning started out well enough, although I made my first big mistake in clothing choice. I wore a white shirt with baby blue velour sweat pants. Definitely an at home outfit, but ragamuffin type clothes like that usually lower my self esteem thus breeding dissatisfaction and unhappiness. So I have set myself up. If I had fixed my hair and put on a bit more make up, I might have better counteracted that, but since I was going to be sitting around the house all day, I didn't see a point in doing it. And if I need makeup and nice clothes to make me feel worth, so much that I dress up to sit around the house, there's something wrong with me, and I need to deal with that through other methods. Not by indulging.

Anydangway, next I went to eat breakfast. Nothing. Nothing good to eat at all besides sugary cereals that make me sick. I sat and poked at everything a while, then sighed and pulled out the Berry Burst Cheerios with real strawberries and bananas. Ugh. Real freezedried. I really hate freezedried fruit. It gives me the chillies. And I don't particularly like Cheerios either. But I was sitting there, trying to choke down spoonfuls of Cheerios with as few strawberries as I could manage. I was more lenient with the bananas, because I really love banana flavored food and drink, but freezedried bananas are just...gross. So after eating three-quarters of the bowl of cereal, I dumped it out disgustedly, trying not to let what I had already eaten follow.

Now, besides feeling bad about how I look, I have a stomach ache from icky cereal. I am still not in a terribly bad mood, but I am not feeling well physically, so again, I am being set up for trouble.

We should also consider that I was still recovering from my emotional explosion, so I was still feeling rather vulnerable emotionally. Even more coals in the furnace.

And then, the spark was lit.

My dad bought me a new used computer from E-bay about a week ago. It arrived on Wednesday, and he got my hard drive switched around and got everything set up for me lickety-split. Thursday morning, he continued his maintenance, then turned the computer over to me to try things out.

I was ecstatic. A newer, faster computer to do with. I was utterly excited. I was bending all my hopes on this pretty little thing. Everything else that was feeling wrong that morning, dissipated in the radiant shimmer eminating in my imagination from my new computer. I ran and fetched Lord of The Rings: The Fellowship of The Ring Extended Edition, with the intention of watching it on my computer. It has a dvd drive, my old computer did, but it was slower and the movie stuttered a lot. Now, I wanted to test to see if dvds would run smoother.

So I popped in the movie, and settled back in my chair and sighed happily as the opening music began to play.

When the movie's introduction started, something seemed awry with Galadriel's voice. It seemed much higher than usual. The rest of the sound seemed normal, but her voice...something wasn't quite right with it. I shook it off though, as being only my imagination. Certain words and phrases stuck out as sounding horribly wrong, but I continued to shake it off as my imagination.

By the time the movie had progressed to Bilbo in his chair writing his story and speaking out loud of hobbits, my sense of something wrong had heightened. Bilbo sounded higher than usual also. I didn't like it, but then rubbed it off as being my imagination again. But by the time we got to Gandalf...well, that was the last straw. I knew there was something horribly wrong with my sound when I heard that usually deep voice squeak out like a Chipmunk. I shut off the movie quickly, not wanting to hear this psuedo Gandalf utter another word. I shuddered and put the movie away, disappointed that I couldn't watch it, and I decided that I would discuss it with my dad later.

Next, I figured I would watch some music videos. I skipped over to watch Thrice's Stare At The Sun in quicktime format. The moment he started singing, I winced audibly. Yes, audibly. The paranormal tinny vocals struck again. I did not need to hear a chipmunk verision of Dustin Kensrue, anymore than I need to hear Chipmunk Gandalf.

By now I was in a terrible fright. I had just tried two different forms of media, in two different media players, and both had this horribly tinny sound. In a mad rush, I opened iTunes and picked the first song I saw. Blue Collar Love from Starflyer 59. I pushed play, and skipped the song forward to a spot where I could hear vocals. Tinny. Very very tinny. I balked and shut off the music and closed iTunes before I would have to endure another moment of that torturous sound.

I ran up to find my father and there he was, heading out the door for work. He said he'd call me, or come look at it when he got home. I sighed and agreed, knowing that I would go get on my computer and do everything I could figure out how to do to get this problem fixed. I had to have my music. I had to have my media. Now. I figured it was a simple problem I could find and fix quickly. I don't know much about computers, but I am a smart girl, and I can figure out what everything does, on my own, pretty darn quickly. I had confidence that I could troubleshoot and repair the problem in no time.

I set about opening volume controls and checking hardware like a maniac. Running around for bass and treble controls, searching for hardware problems to fix, anything I could possibly think and find.

Nothing was working. Nothing at all. A hunger for music was festering within me. Tracks which I have only on mp3 and can only listen to on my computer. I searched faster and harsher and rummaged and raged. My father called and asked questions and told me things to check and do, but nothing he was suggesting was working either. He got another phone call and left me abruptly and I was left without any solutions.

And there was that dying need for music. And this was the flame. The flame tossed upon the coals to heat the furnace of indignation inside of me. Everything else rushed in upon me, and my extremely controlling nature was sent to the brink, because here was a problem that I could not fix or remedy. I turned away from the computer to walk about, just to turn back because I wanted to fix it. It couldn't stay in the state it was. I had to fix it. I had to remedy this problem. But I couldn't. It was impossible. And I exploded.

I positively exploded. I was angry. I was beyond angry. I felt hot with the rage boiling within, I couldn't see straight for the smoke inside clouded my eyes over. I shook and trembled violently as I stared at my computer with fists clenched. The one thing that made my morning good, the one thing I had bent all my hopes upon had failed me. And it was unfixable. The anger simply spiraled out of control.

The slightest ill word, the smallest bothersome gesture, the least hint of ridiculous behavior which I didn't approve of, and I could throttle to death the person the offending action came from. I didn't know what to do with myself. I didn't know what to do with anything. I was out of control. I ran from my computer with my headphones and crashed into my chair and grabbed my teddy bear. I slammed my headphones in the jack in my stereo and cranked up some loud Skillet music. I lay in my chair, clutching my teddy bear as though I would wring the life out of her, crying hot, bitter tears of frustration as I stewed about every slight thing which had made me unhappy.

I sat for a spell like this, seething and rageful, until I decided that maybe I should check and see if anyone was on messenger. On one hand, I was apprehensive about going on, because I was afraid that anyone I'd chat with might slip up and say the wrong thing to me and I'd end up biting their unsuspecting head off, but on the other hand, I was hoping that some friendly conversation would take my mind off my anger and relax me greatly.

I hoped so much for the latter, yet still expecting the former, that I decided I would risk the flames for my yearning for the water.

Shaking hands and clouded vision though I had, I got on, and there...yes...someone to chat with. And we did. Slowly but surely, I calmed down. There the water had been to douse the flames of anger.

My sound still didn't work, and it still frustrated me to a degree, but now I felt better about it. Just some slight conversation brightened my day immensely. Its just what I needed. Someone to talk with, and to rage about it to. A nice little conversation like a delicate flower. What would I do without you? Thank you...

And I continued to feel better the rest of the day. Despite when, my father checked out my computer and pronounced that my sound card was bad, and I would have to have a new one. Yes, it saddened me greatly. I almost started crying. I am without music or any form of media (unless I want to listen to something tinny, which I don't) until we get a new sound card. But just that one conversation earlier, had been enough to douse my flames completely, and they did not return.

And that was yesterday. That was my anger. I did have a lovely night though. Teehee. I was up far later than I probably should have been, but I had an awesome time.

Thus now, my uneventful day has begun. I have nothing but to recover again from yesterday. I was not ready for such a violent burst of emotion, and I am quite exhausted again. Left to languish away in my room, trying to recover again. I really need to calm myself down for a good while.

I guess the problem is though, that all my friends still appear to be caught up in a storm. I am not bothered to help them though, but I think that just makes me feel left out and unnecessary. I can't always be there, they won't always need me, and I think its better that everyone is solving this amongst themselves, because it gives my tired emotions a break.

I still wish I could help though. I wish I was needed. I hate feeling unnecessary.

I think I use "I" too much...

before & & after